Nightingale Effect
by MaplePucks
Summary: It's WW3 and Matthew's recon team is attacked in hostile Russian territory. Separated from his team, he now finds himself at the mercy of an odd Russian solider. Will he make it out of this situation alive? *RusCan, sad, bloody, violent. Human AU/Human names.*


**I don't typically ship RusCan but after this they grew on me. As friends though, PruCan is still my OTP. **  
**I have to say, I'm pretty proud of this. I think it came out really well. **

**Reviews are welcomed! ^^**

* * *

It was quiet, an eerie quiet. That was interesting Matthew thought groggily having only just come to from unconsciousness. The last he remembered, it had been very loud and noisy, chaotically so. It had been to the point where Matthew remembered being scared. He shifted slightly on the cot he found himself laying on, sending a very small wave of pain across his torso. Why was he in pain, he wondered vaguely. Think, he urged his brain, where was he last? He glanced around to try and figure out where he currently was. A dark shack, one room big with two grubby windows and a ragged door. Snow was blowing lightly, making it look fairly gray and miserable outside. Outside. He had been out in a forest before here, he remembered now. A big forested area with three others, he groaned trying to force himself to remember more. Matthew shifted again, sending a larger wave of pain across him. Frustrated by the constant interruption, he looked down and then gasped in shock. He was wounded, badly.

His whole torso was bruised, black, blue, purple, a whole range of dark colors decorated his abdomen and chest. There were little cuts and gashes dotted all over, some deeper than others and many openly bleeding. They were all manageable but there were a few things causing him to start to panic with worry. Matthew poked and prodded, the bruises were more tender then they should be but there was something more important grabbing his attention. A huge, extremely deep gash, stretching from his left lower abdomen to just below his right ribcage. He took a ragged breath and it all came flooding back to him, he had been caught in an attack with his recon team.

The year was 2012, and World War 3 had erupted amongst the nations of the world. Matthew was a Canadian solider who had been assigned to an international recon team along with three others. An American named Alfred who had taken a liking to Matthew for some reason. They looked a lot alike, even though they weren't related, so much so that Alfred had begun calling him his "Canadian brother from another mother" or just plainly Twin. There was a Frenchman named Francis who was nice enough but if he got any alcohol into him, he became a raging flirt. It didn't matter the age or gender, Francis didn't care, "love is love" as he proclaimed. Matthew found it annoying most of the time but there were other times he craved the attention from him. Finally, their leader of sorts, a British man named Arthur. He was strict and always abided by the rules. Honestly, he intimidated Matthew a bit but he made an excellent Captain.

Their mission: Recon Russian territory, scope out enemy troops and barracks near Stalingrad, Hitler's downfall. To make sure history did not repeat itself. Unfortunately, Russia had aligned themselves with the Axis Powers this go around. If the world powers didn't get the upper hand, there was going to be big trouble.

The details of the attack were beginning to come back to him as he laid on the cot, trying to be still. The four of them had just noted an enemy barracks outside of a forest. As they walked by an outcropping of rocks, it had exploded sending small boulders everywhere. Gunfire erupted from all sides, an ambush. Matthew remembered that he had drawn his own gun to join the fight but never got a chance to fire. That's right, he nodded, he remembered right after he did that he had been slashed by something. He wasn't sure what had done it but he did remember the look of horror on his teammates faces, particularly on Alfred's. Matthew had stumbled back, falling down a small embankment away from the fight, landing hard with his back against a tree. It had been terrifying, he surely thought he was going to die as he watched the snow turn red around him. The gunfire had stopped and he had heard another explosion. All he remembered after that was something large and round flying at him, then darkness.

Trying to sit up, he was stopped by an extreme wave of pain. Now that he was fully awake and aware of his injuries, the pain was beginning to get much worse. It even made him forget to wonder why he was in a shack instead of the woods he last remembered himself in. Matthew rolled his head to the side and groaned again. If it weren't for the pain he would assume he had died and was in limbo.

A light cough from the far corner of the room snapped his attention fully back to the present. There was someone else in here with him. A teammate, he hoped, honestly he prayed it was Alfred. He wanted the man to know he was relatively ok, at least not dead yet. Matthew squinted his eye's to see through the darkness. A figure was bent over a counter and he knew right away it was too tall for a teammate. An enemy then, oh God. Now he was in even more trouble, he'd of been better off if he had died.

The figure straighten up, he was very tall, and turned towards Matthew. He was still in the shadow so Matthew couldn't see his face but he held a tray of some sort. Slowly, the man reached down and picked an object off of it with his free hand, Matthew saw it glint in the low light from a dim table lamp off to the side.

"Oh good, you are awake finally. That will make this easier, da?" The man said in a clear soft voice. A Russian voice. Matthew began to squirm, ignoring the pain. He had to get away.

"N-no, stay away from me!" He tried to yell but his voice only cracked from not being used.

"Do not be doing the worrying and be staying still Williams. If you move, it only cause this to hurt more." The man said, his English broken and almost unintelligible. He began walking towards Matthew, the object, the sharp pointy object raised in his other. Matthew was fully panicking, this man knew his name but more importantly, he was going to stab him to death! Wasn't he hurt enough? Couldn't this man just keep him here until he did eventually die without medical attention? Despite the pain Matthew tried to thrash, but only moved inches, tears springing to his eyes. The man came closer. No, he survived an ambush and this was how he was going to go? Being tortured by some mad Russian? No, he had to leave and find help.

A cold hand was placed on his shoulder and Matthew quickly shut his eyes, flinching away. This was it. Sorry Alfred, he thought sadly.

"J-just do i-it quickly, you c-can do that m-much." He trembled in the loudest voice he could muster, it came out as a whisper. The cold hand moved down to his abdomen, placing it flat beside his huge gash. The man was bracing Matthew's abdomen for the knife, he thought wildly.

"Ok, try to be relaxing. This will hurt a little bit and it will take few times, but it will be over soon." He said, Matthew couldn't see it but knew the man was smiling from the way his voice sounded. A few times? His mind raced. He was going to be stabbed violently in the abdomen multiple times and this man just wanted him to relax and let his body take that? Matthew wanted to sob but his fear wouldn't let him, this was going to hurt and be cruel. He wished he could stop it but he couldn't do a damn thing.

Before he could beg the man to reconsider, he felt the cold steel pierce one edge of his gash, Matthew jumped. The metal felt skinnier then it should of he had expected a much thicker blade, oh good God, Matthew thought as the metal went deeper into his skin. It wasn't a knife, it had to be an ice pick. He let tears spill from his closed eyes in horror. An ice pick, he was being stabbed to death slowly by an ice pick. Matthew lolled his head to the side as he felt the metal come out on the other side of the gash. Merde, not only was he stabbing him, he was pushing it across his body, through one side out the other. This man was sick and the pain was unbelievable, he gripped the side of the cot as the man plunged the steel in again. Matthew hoped he passed out again soon, knowing he would never come back but still, it would be better than being awake for his own murder.

Wait a moment, he thought, maybe his mind was playing tricks on him but it felt as if his gash was closing. With every pass of the metal, it felt like the skin was being pulled together. Matthew gulped, he had to see what was going on. This was probably going to be horrifying, one little peak and then he could shut his eyes again for good. Slowly, he cracked one open and was absolutely shocked at what he saw, opening both eyes to stare at the man.

This tall Russian, with short cut white hair, was standing over Matthew and to Matthew's surprise was stitching him up. He wasn't stabbing or killing him at all. In fact the opposite, he was helping him. It was very confusing, this man was Russian so that made him an enemy. Why was he stitching Matthew up?

"What are you doing?" Matthew asked suddenly. The man didn't even jump. He just smiled at him and continued to work.

"Helping, da?" he said happily. Matthew gasped as he pushed, what he now saw was a needle, particularly hard into his skin. He looked from the closing wound to the man.

"Why? Why are you helping an enemy? I'm on the Allies side you know. I'm from Canada." Matthew said, probably spilling more information than what was required. Was he trying to turn this man against him? He really must have a death wish these days. The man shrugged his shoulders.

"Because, I'm helping Williams. Why do you question my help? Do you wishing me to be stopping?" he asked drawing his hands away, leaving the needle halfway through a stich. Matthew was surprised. This man was certainly strange. He shook his head, obliviously this man had his reasons for helping and he was right Matthew shouldn't question it.

"No, please finish. I'm sorry." Matthew said. If Alfred had heard him saying sorry to an enemy, he could just imagine the fit of rage he'd fly into. The image almost made Matthew laugh.

"Da, it's ok Williams." He said resuming his work. Matthew looked at him curiously.

"How do you know my name?" He asked. The Russian pulled a stich extra tight making Matthew wince.

"It is name on jacket." He replied simply, nodding over to Matthews bloody fatigue jacket that hung up by the door. Of course, Matthew should have known that.

"Right, what's your name then?" Matthew asked scanning his jacket only seeing his last name Braginski. Matthew wanted his first name.

"I am known as Ivan." He said. Matthew nodded.

"Well Ivan, call me Mattie please, everyone does." He said actually giving the man a smile. He was starting to get the feeling that this man wasn't all that bad. Ivan looked at him.

"Mattvey?" He repeated back. Matthew smiled and gave a hardy laugh but instantly regretted it.

"Close e-enough." He coughed. Something metallic tasting oozed up from his throat and he let it spill from his mouth. Ivan moved in a flash, laying him further back. He wiped his mouth with a cloth and Matthew saw it was blood. He was spitting up blood? A lot of it from the looks of it as Ivan tossed the cloth with others that were more covered. That really was not a good thing, he was hurt way worse that what he thought. And he thought he was pretty bad off already.

He looked up at Ivan worriedly. He just nodded his head grimly.

"Yes Mattvey. You are having the internal injuries. Not surprise though, when I finally found you in the woods you had been crushed by big boulder. To tell truth, I thought you were dead. So much blood." He said, he looked like he was thinking back on it, his brow slightly furrowed. Matthew could tell he was a slight bit concerned but not as concerned as Matthew now found himself.

"I was what? How long have I been out? Wait, what happened to my team? Are they ok? Where exactly am I? Am I going to be ok? Ivan, am I go-" He shot off rapid fire. He was panicking, his breath getting quicker. He needed a hospital, a doctor. He needed Alfred, Francis and Arthur.

Ivan again abandoned his work, this time placing his hands on Matthew's face. He smiled down at him lovingly, in a calm way that made Matthew quiet down and return his breathing to normal. Ivan let go for a moment and reached over to the small table beside them, grabbing a pill bottle and a glass of water. He brought them back for Matthew to see.

"This will help with pain and help you to be relaxing da?" He said. All Matthew could do was nod and open his mouth. Ivan placed three pills on his tongue and gave him some water. Matthew gulped it down painfully. He hoped it worked soon. He looked back at Ivan who had taken his stitching back up.

"Tell me what happened." Matthew said evenly. Ivan frowned, he seemed to think about it for a moment before he nodded.

Apparently, Ivan had been a member of the ambush team. They had gotten word that a Recon team was in the area and had been sent to kill them. Ivan told Matthew that he didn't want to kill them, just scare them away. He looked sad and worn as he continued working, moving on the smaller gashes. Once the first rock explosion had happened, Ivan said his team rushed in, against his orders. A gun fight had broken out, but then Ivan told Matthew has seen one of his comrades slash him with his dagger. It had been too much, he tried to pull his team immediately but they continued to fight. Matthew stared as the man seemed to grow quiet when he told him had watched him fall back down the hill out of sight, unable to stop him. There had been so much gunfire, he told Matthew that he was sorry but he thought one of his team mates had been hit. Matthew's heart clenched at the news. Ivan did tell him that all three of them had gotten away before the second rock explosion, that was good news at least.

After that, Ivan had sent his team away back to the barracks. Matthew shook his head with disbelief as Ivan told him he couldn't just leave his body down the slope. That he was at least going to move it to the main road for Matthew's teammates to come back and find. So he had made his way down, searching the small hill. Ivan looked away from Matthew when he told him it took him a while to find where he was at. Almost as if he was sorry for taking so long. Matthew waved it away, it's not like he had to in the first place.

When he finally had found Matthew, he told him that he was pinned against a tree by a huge boulder. There had blood all around, the rock was covered in it and it had already begun trickling out of his mouth. Matthew grimaced, yes he supposed he must have looked quite dead. Ivan said it didn't take long to get the boulder off, and he had scooped him up and rushed him back here to his private cabin just outside the Russian barracks.

Four days and three nights, that was the time Ivan told him he had been out cold. Not surprisingly, he had nearly died in the first few days. Ivan said he did all he could to keep Matthew warm and stable but that he couldn't take him to the barracks hospital. His comrades would never understand, they wanted war. Matthew looked at him curiously, he nodded. It was true, they wanted to continue the war and killing an enemy hostage would only further hostilities. Matthew would have been murdered on the spot. Matthew thought to himself for a moment, did that mean Ivan didn't want war? That he wanted peace?

Finally, Ivan told him that he had waited as long as he could to do the stiches. He wanted to do them while Matthew was awake, in case the pain startled him. Ivan smiled, he told him he was glad he woke up. Matthew asked him if he knew what happened to his team and Ivan shook his head, he hadn't heard a word about them.

Matthew's head started reeling with questions. Where could they have gone? Were they alright? Who had been hit? He prayed it wasn't Alfred, he had grown very fond of the man and a tiny bit over protective, like he was his little brother. Or Francis, the man who would give him the attention he'd been after for so long. Matthew closed his eyes, he didn't want it to be Arthur either. The man needed to live a little and loosen up before he died.

As Ivan helped him sit up carefully to put his jacket back on when he was all done being stitched up, Matthew begun wondering if his team was looking for him. Would they be looking on the side of that hill for his body? Would they see all the blood and assume he'd been hauled off by a bear and eaten? He laid back down, tears in his eyes. Would he be left forgotten here, with only the sad Russian to keep him company for the rest of his life? Not that he would terribly mind, in just a short time, Matthew had come to like Ivan very much but still he wanted to see his team again.

He stared blankly out of the window, he had to get his mind on something else. Think of something entirely different for a while. Matthew blinked and focused on the light snow. Snow, it reminded him of his home in Northern Canada. He loved snow and the cold bitter nights. Playing in it as a child, then as an adult he still liked to go outside and spend hours walking in it. He smiled, his pet polar bear cub that he had taken in recently loved to go walking in it too. Kuma and him would stay out for hours just watch the snow fall and accumulate around the small town. Matthew sighed peacefully.

"Ivan, do you like the snow?" He asked. Ivan glanced at the window then back down at him giving him a smile.

"No, not really Mattvey." He replied. Matthew furrowed his brow at him.

"How come? Snow is wonderful, so pretty and romantic. How can anyone not like snow?" Matthew said dreamily. Perhaps the medicine was beginning to work, he did feel less pain. Ivan sighed.

"It is cold and dark here, I like the sunshine and warm feeling. When the war is over, I want to be going somewhere warm. Somewhere to watch the sunflowers grow." He said, wringing his hands together. Matthew became sad for some reason.

"Sunflowers?" He repeated. This big burly man had an inkling to go see sunflowers? That was somewhat unexpected Matthew thought. Ivan nodded.

"They look like sun da? Warm and yellow, they grow big and tall. I want to sit in field of them and just be in sun." He said shivering a bit from a cold draft. Matthew smiled, no this man did not want war. At all. He was a peaceful soul, Matthew could tell.

"You'll get your chance I know it. We can go toge-" He started to say but was cut off by a sudden gunshot outside. Ivan jumped up, his demeanor changing into a more serious one instantly. Running over to the corner, he grabbed his rifle and went to walk over to the door. He turned back just briefly.

"Stay quiet Mattvey, do not be trying to come help." He said sternly. Matthew nodded and watched him rush out the door.

Just like it had in the woods, gunfire erupted outside. Some sounded as if they were far away but getting closer. Strangely, Matthew didn't think he heard any coming from Ivan's side. There weren't any shots being fired close to the shack. Matthew was getting a little frighten. Was it Russian soldiers who had gotten word he was here? Coming to kill him off so he'd become an example of Russian brutality and become just another statistic in the newspapers? Matthew shifted trying to see out of the window, nothing but just the white snow swirling around. The shots were getting closer, Matthew tried to sit up but was in far too much pain. He hoped Ivan would come back soon.

A gunshot very close to the shack snapped his attention to the door. He heard a thump against the outside wall and then mostly quiet. The sound of voices yelling wafted in but he couldn't tell who they were or where they were. Why had it gotten quiet? Matthew head started racing, was this it? Did Ivan betray him and surrender? No, Matthew didn't feel like the Russian would do that, even if he was on the enemy team. The sound of footsteps crunching the snow running up to cabin made his breathing get quicker. Please be Ivan, Matthew thought hastily. The door swung open and to his shock it wasn't Ivan but someone else he had hoped to see.

Matthew watched quietly as Arthur scanned the room for him, not taking long before recognizing him and running over. He was followed in by Francis who was looking around the shack horrified. His eye's grew wide when he saw the amount of blood on Matthew jacket, he couldn't even see the real wounds underneath. He shook his head and cleared his throat.

"Ma-Williams! Are you alright?" He barked, Francis had come over and was touching the torn edges of his jacket. He peeled back some to reveal a small peak at his wounds. Both of their eye's grew wide with shock.

"N-no Kirkland sir, badly injured. In immediate need of medical care." Matthew said quietly. Arthur nodded.

"Bonnefoy, grab Williams and let's get out of here." He said sternly. Francis nodded and leaned down so Matthew could wrap his arms around his neck. The motion made him sick and he could tell he was very weak and losing more of his strength. Once he was situated on Francis's back, he asked the question he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to.

"Where's Jones? D-did he make it out of the forest?" He asked quietly into Francis's ear. The man smiled.

"Zo you 'eard 'e was wounded as well. Do not worry. Jones is outside providing our cover fire." Francis said, following Arthur out of the cabin. The cold wind hit Matthew and took his breath away.

Sure enough, Alfred stood there rifle raised moving it from side to side scanning the area looking for more Russian troops. Matthew was instantly relieved, they were all ok. When Alfred saw them he ran over, Matthew noticed he had a limp.

"Mattie! You're alive!" He yelled slapping him hard on the back. It made Matthew cough, bringing up more blood from his stomach. He watched Alfred's expression change from delighted to worried and scared in an instant.

"Shit, Mattie! Come on, the hero is gonna get ya to the hospital!" He said turning back to raise his rifle again. Matthew only nodded, the sooner he got out of here the better. Still he wanted to see Ivan one last time and thank him at least for saving his life. He glanced back to the cabin and gasped.

"No! Ivan! Francis, turn around I have to go back!" He screamed.

Ivan sat slumped against the cabin, the white snow around him turning red from the blood pouring from the gunshot wound to his chest. Matthew watched it flow down, turning his uniform red. He couldn't tell if he was already dead or just hanging on but he needed to find out either way. He begun to wiggle to try to get out of Francis's grip but the man held on tight.

"Non Mattie, we must go before 'is fellow soldiers show up to kill us." Francis said, gripping him harder. Matthew begun to push away shaking his head. Arthur looked at him sternly.

"Stop this nonsense Williams. We are going to get you to the hospital." Arthur said firmly. Matthew struggled, whipping his head back to Ivan to see he had slumped further down the cabin wall. He was alive! He could get to him and save him, like he had saved him. He began to thrash harder, Francis was losing his grip. Alfred walked calmly over.

"Yo Mattie be still, you're hurt real bad. Besides, that Russian had it coming for kidnapping you." Alfred said placing a tender hand on his shoulder. Matthew became angry, letting the tears fall now. Jerking his shoulder away, he rounded on Alfred.

"Kidnapping?! You hoser! If it weren't for Ivan, I'd be dead on that hill side for sure! He saved my life, we have to save his!" He yelled. He threw a kick inward to Francis, making him lose grip and buckle. Matthew took the opportunity and launched off his back towards Ivan.

He only made it running half way before he fell to his knees, the pain so immense. He clutched his side as fresh blood started to pour from his now popped stiches. It soaked into the snow, making it a pink. Matthew was bent there for a moment coughing up blood before beginning to crawl over to Ivan. As he went he left a wide trail of blood in the snow, and by the time he reached Ivan's side he was bleeding so badly the pool around Ivan got worse. Matthew curled up beside him, breathing heavily to match his breaths. Slowly he wrapped his arms around Ivan's waist. He knew he couldn't save him and he knew he wasn't long for this world either.

"Can you hear me? Ivan I-I'm sorry." Matthew wheezed into his ear. To his surprise Ivan leaned his head down against Matthew's resting his cheek on his forehead. He smiled.

"Do not be doing the apologizing. It is ok." He coughed reaching over to grab Matthew's hand. They both squeezed each other's lightly. Matthew hugged him closer, he wasn't sure whose body was more cold.

"You'll never get to see the sunflowers though." He whispered. He felt Ivan shake his head.

"That is not truth. I can see them right now. Fields of beautiful sunflowers, and warm sunshine. Can you see them Mattvey? You said we would go together da?" Ivan asked. Matthew shed a tear and looked out, seeing nothing but the snow covered banks and his trail of blood. His teammates stood by horrified but unable to move. Matthew nodded and smiled.

"I can see them Ivan. They are beautiful you're right." He said, Ivan remained quiet and Matthew could no longer hear a heartbeat coming from his chest. He curled closer to him placing his hand on the side of Ivan's cold cheek.

"We'll go together, as promised my friend." He whispered, closing his eyes and letting his hands fall to his side.


End file.
